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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30041064">Try A Little Tenderness</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BazzyBelle/pseuds/BazzyBelle'>BazzyBelle</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Textual Seduction [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow &amp; Related Fandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Baz Tries to seduce Simon, But like... because he misses him, Declarations Of Love, Frottage, Hand Jobs, I mean... SORTA..., I'm not sure if this has a plot, M/M, POV Simon Snow, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Porn with Feelings, Sequel of that first smut fic I wrote, Sexting, Simon Snow Loves Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Simon Snow is Gay for Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Simon Snow is Overworked, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Plotting, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Loves Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Misses Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow in Love, and he also misses Baz, and tired, but umm... while climaxing, silly horny boys being silly and horny, suggestive photographs, suggestive stripping, suggestive text messages, the one where they sext each other, they're also really horny for each other</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:29:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,774</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30041064</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BazzyBelle/pseuds/BazzyBelle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been over a year since Baz Pitch received an unsolicited text message from professional sexting service. It's also been over a year since he opened his heart to the man sending him the very same messages...</p><p>Within that year, he's fallen even more in love with him, and he's proud of Simon... Proud that he's working hard at learning everything he can about the art of cooking. </p><p>But Baz misses him... Simon has been running himself ragged, and Baz wishes he could spend a night with Simon in his arms. </p><p>Maybe in order for that to happen, Baz needs to bring Simon back to the beginning... To what fueled the spark in their relationship in the first place.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Textual Seduction [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2209755</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>125</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Try A Little Tenderness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/giishu/gifts">giishu</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIISHU!</p><p>You are one of my oldest and dearest friends in this fandom. You are so full of wisdom and humour and your friendship means so much to me. </p><p>I hope you enjoy this story (a sequel of the first fic I wrote for you), and that you have an amazing birthday. You deserve all the love and warmth on this day. </p><p> </p><p>Thanks to the wonderful <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artescapri">TBazzSnow</a> for being an amazing Beta! :D</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>BAZ</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I’m awakened by the sound of shuffling about, and by loud, heavy footsteps. Granted, the person responsible is doing their best to keep quiet, but nonetheless, I’m now awake. I sigh deep into my pillow completely resolved in the fact that this is just my life now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Snow, I swear to God, I will make you sleep on the couch…” I grumble. I used to be asleep by no later than 10 PM. I used to look forward to quiet nights of undisturbed rest. Even after Simon moved into my flat, we would fall asleep together, comfy and cozy under the sheets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That hasn’t happened in almost a month… Now, what I have to look forward to are messages at 9:30, telling me that he’ll be late coming home, and being woken up during the God forsaken hours of the morning when he finally arrives. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The footsteps stop and I feel a small dip in the bed as Simon climbs in. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. Normally, I enjoy this, no matter how late he gets in, but I’ve been woken up every day this week, and frankly, I’m cranky. Simon smells of oil and sweat, and the scent of it offends my nose and further wakes me up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And for God’s sake, shower… You’re assaulting me with your foul odor!” I mean for it to sound angry and snappy, but fuck, I’m still half asleep, that it comes out in a half-whispered mumble. Simon responds by pressing himself even closer to me, digging his nose into my shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t shower… too tired…” he mumbles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re disgusting,” I hiss. “I’m going to smell like a fucking deep fry-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baz,” Simon cuts me off, not ready to have me go off on him. “Shut up and go back to sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I want to push him more, challenge him after waking me up </span>
  <em>
    <span>yet again</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I want to argue with him, and let out everything that I’ve been keeping inside. In the end, I decide to let him be and let him get some sleep. The smell and the coming home late aren’t even the real issues here. What I </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> be telling Simon, instead of snapping at him about disturbing my peace, is that I miss him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I miss him so fucking much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I miss the peaceful evenings and nights we had together. I miss having lazy mornings where we would lie tangled up in each other, finding new places to kiss and touch and taste. I miss looking into his eyes and finding his light… his </span>
  <em>
    <span>spark</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Simon’s been running himself ragged, and it’s clearly taking a toll on him. I hate seeing him like this, all blurred lines and deep purple bags under his eyes. Instead of arguing with him, what I want to tell him (if I wasn’t so tired) is that he does not need to be pushing himself like this. I want to tell him how worried I am about his well being and his mental health. He’s doing too much, too fast, and he’s heading towards a heavy crash if he isn’t careful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s been studying the culinary arts at Le Cordon Bleu school for the last few months. Simon keeps telling me that he was lucky enough to get in, and that he shouldn’t waste this chance. I know better. It wasn’t just </span>
  <em>
    <span>luck</span>
  </em>
  <span> that brought him here, but months upon months of work and effort was what got him here. Simon was determined to prove to everyone that he deserved his spot to be there, by practicing his craft every day, and writing up new recipes and reviews at night. It wasn’t luck, he’s more than </span>
  <em>
    <span>earned</span>
  </em>
  <span> that spot, as well as his scholarship. A couple of weeks ago, one of his professors offered him a part-time job to work for him at his restaurant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, Simon jumped at the chance to get that much closer to being a professional chef (and of course, I gladly encouraged it). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he’s been quickly stripped bare, leaving the flat by 7 AM, and sometimes not coming home until well after 2 in the morning. He’ll collapse onto the bed, barely having enough energy to change out of his dirty clothes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I feel a soft kiss on my shoulder. “Love you, babe,” he whispers, already half asleep. I link my hand with his and press my own kiss on the back of his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too…”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should send him some nudes!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If looks could kill, I’d be guilty of murdering my idiot cousin. Niall is giving him a similar look from across the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is exactly why I refuse to tell you anything!” I snap, before taking a small bite of my garden salad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s become a bit of a tradition to grab lunch with Dev and Niall on Fridays. We haven’t been seeing each other often around the office, since Niall got promoted, and since Dev left the publishing house altogether. Well, Dev and Niall see each other often enough, since they’ve been dating for the last few months. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don’t even know why I agreed to this lunch in the first place. I haven’t been feeling well at all today. Simon was gone by the time I woke up, the bed feeling as cold and lonely as it did when I was still sleeping alone. Before I’d met Simon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had tried to talk my way out of it today, but Niall insisted It didn’t take me long to open up to the two of them, and of course, Dev had to chime in with his asinine commentary and advice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My advice is top quality, and you know it, Basilton.” Dev smiles, taking a bite of his sandwich. I give him a glare. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am not sending my boyfriend unsolicited nude photos.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Niall shrugs. “Is it </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> unsolicited if he’s seen you naked?” he asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nearly spit out my water. I was not expecting Niall to say something like that. He’s been hanging around Dev for too long. My cousin is a virus for inappropriate questions and quips. “I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> having this discussion with either of you right now...” I groan, my face already feeling flushed. “I can’t believe you agree with him…” I say to Niall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never said I agreed with him… Just asking an innocent question.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! You’re supposed to agree with me!” Dev squawks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not when you give stupid advice.” Niall leans over and flicks a lock of Dev’s hair, before eating some of his tortellini. Dev laughs, and I’m about ready to clobber them both. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You two are fucking unbelievable…” I rub my eyes, done with the both of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dev turns to me, resigned. “Ok, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>! Maybe don’t send him nudes… But you should do something to get his attention.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Such as…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if you just talked to him? Tell him you miss him and you want to spend time with him?” Niall says. Dev turns back to his boyfriend, with an absolutely judgmental look in his eye. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When’s he gonna have this important discussion? In between Snow’s shifts? When he’s half asleep on the couch? He needs to reignite the spark first, </span>
  <em>
    <span>then</span>
  </em>
  <span> come in with that sweet, sweet communication…” Dev has the audacity to waggle his eyebrows at me. He rolls his eyes when Niall stick his tongue out at him (fucking children, the two of them). “Trust me Baz, I’ve never steered you wrong before,.” he adds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Niall scoffs. “Says the idiot who signed him up to a </span>
  <em>
    <span>sexting</span>
  </em>
  <span> service behind his back!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dev grabs Niall’s fork and steals a tortellini off of his plate. “Yeah! And he’s now living with the guy I set him up with! If anything, he should be thanking me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait… shut up, both of you…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I put down my fork as an idea crosses my mind. I almost miss it, what with their ridiculous banter and everything. Dev and Niall stop talking and turn to look at me, but I’m busy plotting to pay them any mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Niall’s comment about how Simon and I met is marinating inside my head. I think he’s got a very good point. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suggestive text messages… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baz, I know that look, what are you thinking?” Dev asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m thinking… I know how to get Simon’s attention on me, and I cannot believe I didn’t think of this sooner.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>SIMON</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s been a long fucking week. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’ve been picking up more shifts at the restaurant, wanting to get as much experience as possible (and take advantage to learn more from chef Schneider). I think it’s starting to take its toll on me. I haven’t been getting much sleep, I haven’t had time to eat a proper meal… and worst of all, I haven’t had a quiet evening with Baz in… months… I think. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I keep telling myself it’ll be worth it once I’m done with school. It’ll be worth it once I get a job, or when I get my own restaurant… But the more time I spend in a place like this, in the hustle and bustle of restaurant life, the more I’m wondering if this is what I really want. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I have a free evening tonight (the first in a really long fucking time), and I’m already thinking about the recipes I need to be practicing. I haven’t had a chance to do any baking in the longest time and I’ve found that I miss it very much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I miss a lot of things. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was so tired last night, that I barely had enough energy to crawl into bed next to Baz. I upset him when I woke him up (he hates being disturbed when he’s sleeping) (but I just wanted to be with him), and he was ready to have a full-blown argument with me, but I was just too tired. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baz was still asleep when I left this morning. He didn’t stir when I kissed him goodbye (usually he demands a kiss from me before leaving) (needy git). I want to believe that he was just as exhausted as I was, but the anxious side of my brain is convincing me that he’s upset.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I know I need to make it up to him, show him that I miss him too and that he’s still important to me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe I can kill two birds with one stone… Bake him something amazing tonight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if on cue, my phone starts to vibrate. I’m in between classes right now, so I check my messages to see a text from Baz. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Stubborn Git ❤ (13:47):</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’ve been a very, very naughty boy. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I almost drop my phone on the floor as I read Baz’s text. Is… is he fucking with me right now? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Simon Snow (13:48):</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>????? Baz?? WTF was that?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I keep my phone opened to my messages app, eyes trained on the conversation between Baz and I. Did he get hacked? Did Dev steal his phone and is taking the piss out of me? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Is Baz high? No, that can’t be it, Baz doesn’t smoke… Or drink (unless you count a glass of wine on the weekends).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The phone buzzes in my hand. I take a deep breath and look at my messages.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Stubborn Git ❤ (13:50):</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I think you know… You’ve been very naughty indeed… I need to teach you a lesson… </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Simon Snow (13:51):</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ok… srsly… if this is a prank, fuck off!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Stubborn Git ❤ (13:54):</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tsk, tsk, darling…  Is that any way to talk to your boyfriend? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A picture file is attached to the message. I let out an embarrassing squeak when I open it, because there he is… Baz… in our apartment. He must have asked for the afternoon off from work, because he’s sitting on our bed, in a… </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> interesting position. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The photo is taken from above, and I can only really see his face, but it looks like his head is arched back, as if in the middle of a passionate moan. He’s got one of his fingers in his mouth, tugging slightly at his bottom lip. His eyes are closed and his hair has fallen beautifully over his shoulders (he’s been wearing it up more often) (I miss his hair down and soft like this) (bastard knows that too).</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Stubborn Git ❤ (13:55):</b>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m here… all by myself, darling… thinking of all the things I want to do to you… </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My teeth clamp down on my bottom lip, as I feel a strong pulling deep in the pit of my stomach. There is a slight throbbing between my legs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck… this fucking arsehole… He wants to play dirty, does he? I can fucking play dirty with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I march down to the student parking lot and hop in my car. I’m lucky the final class of the day is not mandatory attendance, otherwise, I’d be in massive trouble. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I decide to play along with his little game. I can dish out my own brand of suggestive text messages (Baz seems to have forgotten who he’s dealing with). I’m not going to go home just yet… I’ll let him anticipate my arrival a little… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I drive my car to one of the more secluded parts of the campus, and hunker down in the backseat. I cannot fucking believe I’m about to do this. But if he wants to fucking go, let’s fucking go. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Simon Snow (14:10):</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Like what?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Stubborn Git ❤ (14:11):</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Like kiss you underneath your left earlobe. I drag my teeth a little to the right, on that spot that makes you shiver. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I know the spot he’s talking about. He found it the first time we made out in my flat. I’m shivering remembering the sensation. It’s one of Baz’s foreplay moves that he likes to use on me when I’m especially stressed out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Simon Snow (14:12):</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I move my hand to the back of your neck, threading my fingers in your hair. You like that, baby?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Stubborn Git ❤ (14:13):</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not as much as you like me tugging at your delicious curls, while I suck on that spot. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Simon Snow (14:14):</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And then you say I’m being a naughty boy… </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Stubborn Git ❤ (14:15):</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh you are…  Are you making those noises for me, love? The ones you make when I rake my fingers over your scalp?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A soft moan escapes my mouth. Fuck… he’s not here, yet all I can think about is the feeling of his elegant fingers scratching my skull and it feels </span>
  <em>
    <span>soo good</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Fuck, how long has it been since we shagged? I’m feeling such a hunger for him…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Stubborn Git ❤ (14:17):</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I miss those noises, love… I miss your noises, and the way you pull my hair to get at my neck. I miss how you drag your nails down my back when you grind against me. I miss the way you graze your teeth over my chest, taking each of my nipples between your lips. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fuck... Baz… I’m only thinking of him now, alone in my car, trying really hard not to have a full wanking session. Now is not the time, nor the place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>… My head is cloudy with visions of Baz, laying down on our crisp sheets, hair billowing around him like a dark halo. I can picture the way his head will cock to the side as I stare down at him. How his eyes will close, long eyelashes fluttering while I suck and play with his nipples. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Simon Snow (14:18):</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I miss the way you whimper my name while I flick your nipples. I miss the way you demand for me to kiss you. You are so fucking needy… And I love it. I love the way you squirm and moan as I kiss and bite and suck all the sensitive parts of your neck. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another picture comes to my phone. Baz is now shirtless, his copper skin laying against the light grey sheets of our bed. He’s looking right at the camera, his eyes semi-closed, and lashes swooping down just perfectly. It’s his “come hither” look, and it never fucking fails to make me weak in my knees. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Stubborn Git ❤ (14:20):</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Did you just call me, needy? Darling, how needy are you right now?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bastard… he’s a fucking bastard…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Simon Snow (14:21):</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Really fucking needy, Baz… I need you to bite my shoulder and kiss my back as I feel you grind against me. I need to feel your body flush against mine. Fuck… Baz… I miss your body and what it does to mine. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Stubborn Git ❤ (14:22):</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Baby… I crawl behind you and wrap my leg around yours. I hook my arms across your shoulders and feel your warm body heating up more beneath me. You’re so hot, Simon… So fucking hot. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Simon Snow: (14:23):</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck… Baz… I grind against you. I’m so hungry… </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Stubborn Git ❤ (14:24):</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>For what, baby?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Simon Snow: (14:24):</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>FOR YOU! For… for you… </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next message I receive is a video. I’m sweating in my car, my cock is starting to throb, wanting to be touched and placated. My thighs are burning and sticking to my jeans, but I open it anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The video starts with a full view of Baz, kneeling on the bed. His hands slowly trail down his body until they reach the waistband of his jeans (</span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck… he’s so fit in jeans)</span>
  </em>
  <span>. His fingers drag over the belt holding them up and he slowly undoes the buckle. I’m fucking panting like an idiot, and he’s not stopping. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s such an arsehole… he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baz undoes his jeans and shimmies them off, revealing a pair of black pants that shape him in such a way that leaves nothing to the imagination. Fuck… I love staring at him in his black pants. Baz doesn’t buy cheap clothing, and those pants… well… those pants are worth every penny he spends on them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baz lies down on his stomach now, leaning up on his elbows. He gives a final look to the camera, before blowing it a kiss, and the video ends. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My hand reaches to the bulge pressing against my jeans and I palm my cock, trying to get some sort of relief. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t want to have to have a full wanking session in my car, but Baz is fucking relentless. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Stubborn Git ❤ (14:37):</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re awfully quiet baby… I hope you’re not having fun without me… I need to put your huge, throbbing cock in my mouth. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christ… The thought of Baz’s pouty, perfect lips around my cock is enough to send me grunting and thrusting my hips forward. The car is humid and hot, my legs are stuck to my jeans, and sweat is dripping down my back. It doesn’t matter, because all I can see in my head is him. His eyes are closed blissfully, his hair falling delicately and tickling my inner thighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not enough to picture him… I want him here, with me, where I can tug at his hair, and feel how his muscles shudder under my touch, my kiss, my tongue. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Simon Snow (14:39):</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Baz… if only you knew what you were doing to me…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Stubborn Git ❤ (14:40):</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Show me… Come home to me, darling.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yeah… fuck everything else. I’m going home to shag my boyfriend and nothing is stopping me. I hop back into the front seat of the car and put the key in the ignition when another text from Baz comes to my phone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s another picture. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baz is on his knees this time, with one of his fingers in his mouth again… And… </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>… he’s sucking it. His eyes are closed in what looks like a fit of pleasure. I follow the photo down, taking in the well-kept patch of hair on his chest (Baz is the </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> bloke I know vain enough to maintain his chest hair) (“There is nothing wrong with proper grooming, Snow!”). His other hand has pulled down a section of his pants to reveal a little bit of his happy trail.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Stubborn Git ❤ (14:42):</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m waiting for you…</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>I risk getting into several car accidents in my haste to get home to Baz. I’d messaged him that I was on my way home after… that message. I don’t think I’ve ever driven that quickly (or carelessly). I keep thinking about Baz, in those tight black pants, his hand tugging at the elastic, reaching lower and lower. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck… my cock twitches a little painfully against my jeans. I practically leap out of my car and rush into our flat. My keys are shaking in my hands as I fumble to fit the right one into the hole. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baz!?” I shout as I burst through the front door. I scan the entryway, and the living room, but Baz isn’t anywhere in sight. I toss my messenger bag on the floor in the hallway and head towards the bedroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baz meets me, standing in the bedroom doorway… And he’s wearing those tight black pants… and nothing else. I’m frozen in place, just staring at him, memorizing the definition of his chest and his stomach, and the trail of hair leading to his very prominent erection. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baz sticks his thumbs in his pants and pulls them slowly down as he walks towards me. I can see the curve of his arse peeking out. Baz turns around just as he reaches me and tugs his pants further down, revealing his taught, round arse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Baz! Y-you… f-fuck… I mean… shit…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baz slips out of his pants (fuck… his arse) and presses his body against mine. He grinds his arse against my cock and Jesus Christ, I’m gonna pass out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s so fucking beautiful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And perfect. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And mine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s doing all this… for me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because he wants me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he misses me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And fuck… I want him to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wrap my arms around his chest and pull him close. I dig my face into the crook of his neck and start sucking the skin there. Baz tilts his head back towards me and sighs deeply. One my hands reaches down and cups his arse, giving it a nice firm squeeze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was quite the text you sent me” I rumble in his ear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you like them?” Baz turns his head to me and I can smell the fragrance of cedar and bergamot in his hair. My mouth movies up his neck, where I continue to kiss and nibble at him. With each nip I give him, Baz moans and pushes his arse towards me even further. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I give his arse a little smack and he hisses. “You’re lucky I decided to hide in my car. You could have embarrassed me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you saying you want to touch me, Simon?” Baz reaches behind him and trails his fingers up my inner thigh. I groan, my erection throbbing against his arse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a fucking villain,” I growl into his ear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baz finally shifts to look at me, a wicked grin is splayed on his lips. His tongue drags over them so slowly. He cocks his damn eyebrow at me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And just what are you going to do about </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smile back at him, planting kisses in the back of his neck. Baz shivers. My hands move from his arse up his back. My fingers knead his muscles as I continue to kiss him. I grab his hands in mine and stretch them out, bring them over his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I gently turn him around, and he slings his arms across my shoulders. I cup his face in my hands and place strategic kisses on the corners of his lips, under his eyes, and right behind one of his ears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baz buckles once I kiss him there, and I make my next move. I dip and hoist him over my shoulder. Baz yelps in surprise, but starts laughing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You bloody oaf! Put me down at once!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’d be terrified if Baz wasn’t out of breath from laughing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know you love it, Pitch!” I shout, giving his arse another playful smack. Baz giggles and I suddenly feel cold hands reaching into my jeans and my pants, squeezing my arse tight. I give him a little shake as I make my way into our bedroom, “You needy prick! Can’t you wait for us to be in the bedroom before you grope me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When we get to our bedroom, I plop Baz on the bed and just take a few moments to just look at him. His eyes are big and bright, and he’s still laughing uncontrollably. It’s hard to imagine that only a year ago, he was so stuck up and humourless, keeping his emotions and thoughts locked up deep inside. Now, he’s smiling and laughing, and blushing everytime we’re together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck… I miss him so much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I take off my shirt and pull off my jeans, before climbing onto the bed with him. Baz reaches up for me, placing a hand on the side of my face. I turn towards it and kiss his palm. Baz’s eyes paint a picture of adoration and gratitude that I’ve never seen on anyone else. Baz’s eyes remind me that despite the darkness in my life, he’s my beacon, calling me home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I press my body against him and kiss him deeply. He tastes like vanilla and Earl Grey. His tongue is lapping the roof of my mouth, exploring everything. I hold his hands, bring them together over his head. I keep one hand pinning them down. My other hand grazes the side of Baz’s head, running my fingers through his hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I moan in Baz’s mouth as he takes my bottom lip between his teeth and sucks on it. My hand makes it’s way to Baz’s chest and I drag my thumb over his nipple. He jerks up against me and squirms under my hold. I press myself further against him and continue to rub his nipple. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baz gasps and turns his face away from mine. I continue to kiss his jaw, picking a spot right near his neck to start sucking. “Si... Simon… please… let me touch you…” I pull away from him and smile. I give him a kiss on his forehead before letting his hands go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baz pushes me onto my back. He climbs on top of me and lets me place my hands around his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me take care of you, darling…” He whispers before leaning down and kissing the base of my neck. I sigh and close my eyes, hands rubbing his neck and thumbs digging into the crook. Baz kisses can go either way. He’ll start off sweet and gentle, peppering them in calmly, as if afraid that he’ll hurt me if he unleashes too quickly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t take much to get him going, and once he does, his kisses become more hungry, and desperate. He’ll latch onto a spot, wanting to taste as much of me as he can. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s really fucking hot… and nothing excites me more than seeing him come undone and giving into his urges. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’ll sometimes help him along the way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I move to spit on my hand, when Baz smacks it away from my mouth. He nods his head towards a bottle of lube on the nightstand. He grabs it and squirts a generous supply onto his hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you… </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m </span>
  </em>
  <span>taking care of you. Keep your paws to yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baz… I need to touch you…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t say anything, just quirks that damned-to-hell eyebrow (I love that eyebrow), before sliding off of me. He turns onto his side and brings me closer to him. He takes hold of both our cocks together and starts to pump them simultaneously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I groan and hook a leg around his hip, bringing myself as close to him as possible. My hands have fistfuls of his hair. I bring my face down in the crook of his neck and just breathe him in. The scent of cedar, bergamot, and something more… </span>
  <em>
    <span>heady</span>
  </em>
  <span>, earthy… It’s the scent of sweat and sex and </span>
  <em>
    <span>desire</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baz is whimpering against me, his long cool fingers working us both. I can feel his cock hardening against mine as precome dribbles from the tip.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck… I love him… I love him so much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He strokes and kisses me and holds me so close to him, never letting me go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I need him… more than anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s the constant in my life where I have been unsure of everything else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baz’s body is flush against mine. We are gasping and sweating, and grunting against each other, weeks of frustration and loneliness and madness from being apart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baby… I’m almost… </span>
  <em>
    <span>hnnng</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can feel you, love… you’re almost there…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baz… Baz… Baz… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s all I want. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s all I need. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’ve loved him before I really knew him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I still love him after learning new parts of him everyday. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I will continue to love him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now and always. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baz…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baz…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s pulling and tugging and I’m inching closer and closer to my climax. My stomach is clenching and my thighs are squeezing against his. I feel his body becoming rigid, every muscle contracting as he gets closer as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don’t ever want to be without him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don’t ever want to lose him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I want…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I </span>
  <em>
    <span>need…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck! Baz! Marry me!” I shout as come erupts from my cock. My body shudders against his as I ride the wave of the climax. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don’t have enough time to think and process what I’ve just yelled because not even two seconds later, Baz is panting and gasping, reaching his own climax. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Simon! I’ll marry you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baz bucks against me, sticky, warm liquid hitting my stomach. I hold onto him, running my fingers through his hair, and kissing the side of his face with reverence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I love him… I love him…</span>
  <em>
    <span> I love him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck… did I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> propose to him? While coming into his hands?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And… he said… </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baz said yes! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We’re… Did that just…happen?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baz is shuddering and I think at first that he’s just coming down from his peak. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A strangled sob escapes his lips. I delicately lift his face to see that he’s crying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baz… what? Darling… why are you crying?” I brush my thumbs under his eyes, wiping the tears away. Baz just keeps shaking his head, unable to find the words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Use your words, Pitch,” I tease before kissing his forehead. Baz starts laughing, broken up by the occasional sob or two. I keep him close, letting him cry on my shoulder as much as he needs to. His hands are grasping onto my back for dear life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck… did I do something wrong? Was this a mistake?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Simon</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” he gasps, voice muffled against my skin. “... Love you so much…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baz looks up at me, eyes watery, but with a smile so big and bright, it’s like the sun has taken residence on his face. I must also be smiling, because he pulls me closer to him and kisses me. It’s so good and right and everything I ever thought I needed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For the record…” I start, fingers carding through his hair. “I meant it… Even if it was the most inappropriate way to </span>
  <em>
    <span>ask that</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I meant it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And I do mean it… I had been thinking about it for a while now. For most of my life, I had never allowed myself to imagine a future where I could have something close to a family, or be with someone I truly cared for. I had Penny, and Agatha, but they were my best friends, and I was happy with that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But with Baz… Baz came into my life in the most unexpected way, holding on tight to my heart through text messages and random stories about his life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ever since our kiss in the elevator last year, I’ve started to allow myself to dream, to </span>
  <em>
    <span>wish</span>
  </em>
  <span> for something more. Something more permanent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I obviously didn’t mean to do this now… Baz is the sort of person that you propose to with a dozen roses, a romantic dinner, and his favourite love songs playing in the background. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shit… is that why he was crying? Was he hoping for a better moment, and I arsed everything up?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Simon… you could ask me in a bloody dump and I would still say yes… I also meant it,” he whispers, no longer sobbing. “I think I wasn’t expecting that… that you would want… that we could ever…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I almost laugh, because it’s a rare fucking sight when Baz has difficulty with his words. Words are always at his disposal, ready to be used to win any argument, or cut someone down. His words are always there to soothe me when I’m too in my own head, or to call me out when I”m being a complete tit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baz’s words never fail him…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yet…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I kiss the top of his head again, hopefully reminding him that I love him so much… But in case he doesn't quite get the message, yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Basilton Grimm-Pitch, I love you so fucking much. I want to love you every day for the rest of my life.” I nuzzle his face close to mine, brushing my nose against his. I close my eyes, whispering softly to him, “Will you marry me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baz places his hands over mine, and draws me into a soft, sweet kiss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, Simon Snow… Of course, I’ll marry you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We stay in each other's arms for a little while longer. Baz’s hands are tracing patterns onto my chest (he likes to dot my moles and freckles). I’m lightly scratching the top of his head, twirling his soft hair between our fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Our legs are tangled together, his cold feet, burrowed under mine, hoping to steal some of my warmth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We’re sticky and disgusting, and in a desperate need for a shower, but I don’t care. I could stay like this forever… I cannot wait to stay like this forever, nestled deep with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We still have a lot to talk about (our engagement for one… and if we want to share the news) (I want to keep it our little secret for now), but all that can wait for a little while longer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right now, I think I want to just lie in bed and sleep with my fiancé. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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